


Fly-Fishing

by dazebras



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Dates, Fish out of Water, Fishing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 00:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1799203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazebras/pseuds/dazebras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will takes Frederick fly-fishing for their first date.  Frederick is less than enamored with the outdoors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fly-Fishing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vagabond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/gifts).



> This is a continuation of the gorgeous oneshot Vagabond wrote me on tumblr, which is an AU where Will Graham is a fishing instructor and meets Frederick Chilton in a bookstore. (Read it.)

The gentle breeze danced the sunlight across the softly rippling stream, turning the water gold. Low-hanging branches dipped their fingers to feel the cool water. Somewhere a songbird called to its mate a tune of home. The smell of earth rose up from the banks of the river, a strong and primal demand to return to the roots of humanity.

Frederick Chilton smacked at a mosquito that landed on his arm. He pulled his hand away with disgust and wiped the bug remnants on borrowed nylon overalls. “When we arranged for you to take me fishing I thought we’d be doing it somewhere a little more… commercial.”

“It wouldn't be much of a date then, would it? Besides, I wanted to show you one of my favorite spots.” Will grinned at him from beneath a ratty old ball cap, and, oh, maybe Frederick didn't mind so much that they were tramping through the wilderness behind Will’s home after all. “I did warn you to apply the bug repellent liberally.”

Frederick glared fondly at the back of his head as Will turned to set the tackle box on the bank. “Is this the spot?”

Will rubbed the back of his neck apologetically. “Not exactly. The branches are too close here. We have to wade out into the stream.”

“Well, I suppose that’s why we’re wearing these,” he said, stretching out the extra fabric of his waders. Which he found looked atrocious on him. Certainly not the best outfit to make a good impression on a first date. Unless Will was into the whole woodsy, outdoorsman thing, which, considering the ungodly number of fishing poles Frederick had seen in his living room, was a distinct possibility.

“That’s the spirit.” Will selected a lure and a small bottle from the tackle box and wound behind Frederick, tucking his chin over his shoulder. His breath ghosted Frederick’s cheek, barely perceptible in the humidity, “I’m going to show you how to attach the lure.”

Frederick swallowed thickly. “Do we need to put one of those little worms on the hook?” They didn't bring any worms with them, oh, it was getting hard to breath.

Will chuckled and stepped back to take Frederick’s rod from him and to hand him the lure. Frederick valiantly succeeded in not sighing at the loss. “Not for fly fishing. Give me your hand.” Frederick held out his palm and waited as Will squirted a small amount of gel onto his index finger. “Rub that floatant between your thumb and forefinger to warm it up, then put it on the feathers and tail of the fly.”

Frederick did as he was asked. “What is this supposed to do?”

“It keeps the fly from sinking.” Will removed his hat to smooth back his sweat-damp hair and stowed the cap in the pocket of his waders for the moment as he held out his hand for the lure. “Watch how I tie it to the tippet.”

“The tippet?” Frederick watched as he threaded the line through a small eyelet on the end of the lure.

Will glanced up before focusing back on his work. “Sorry, the end of the fly line is called the tippet. There are actually three—four, rather—different lines of varying diameter that make up a fly line.” 

Frederick nodded though Will could not see. He was grateful that Will didn’t seem inclined to name them since he knew he’d never remember them later. He also wouldn't remember how to tie this knot later since he was too busy watching the way Will’s deft fingers manipulated the line.

“You have to wet the knot to make sure it tightens.”

Frederick saw it as if the world moved in slow motion. 

Will lifted his thumb to his mouth, and Frederick swore the light fell in his curls like a halo straight out of his most twisted Catholic schoolboy fantasies. His lips parted, and he licked across the pad in one slow stroke, not breaking eye contact all the while and—Jesus fucking Christ, he was doing it on purpose! Even if Frederick got nothing else out of this day, he was tucking this away for a rainy day. He was too busy staring at Will’s mouth to notice what else he did with the fishing lure, and he did not care one bit. He only hoped he could blame the blush growing under his collar on the heat.

Will grinned at him, eyes back to darting between his forehead and somewhere over his left shoulder, which Frederick had noticed seemed to be normal for him, as he shoved his hat back on his head. “You ready to get in the water?”

“Ah, yes. Let’s do that.” Eager to leave the awkwardness he’d felt behind, Frederick hurried into the water. Will waded in after with Frederick’s fishing rod. 

In retrospect, Frederick would decide he was a little too hasty in assuming that the river bottom was a smooth surface. He stepped on a rock that slipped out from under his foot, sending him pitching backwards. Will caught him with ease under his flailing arms. For a moment they stayed like that—Frederick resting his weight against Will’s solid chest.

“Told you I’d catch you.” Will set him aright and offered his hand to keep Frederick steady as they moved further into the middle of the stream. Frederick supposed the opportunity to hold Will’s hand balanced out the cost to his dignity. “Guess I should have warned you to be careful.”

Frederick waved away the sentiment as he let Will direct him to a suitable position. “Alright, how do I do this?”

Will spent the rest of the lesson pressed against Frederick’s back. He wrapped his arms around Frederick’s waist as he showed him how to grip the rod in his right hand and control the line with his left. With one hand on Frederick’s hip and another on his forearm, Will guided his cast as he taught him how to avoid an arc that would send the fly into the trees off to the side. Frederick worried for a moment when Will—arms circled about his middle and nose buried him his nape—let him cast the line on his own the first time that he would strike one or the both of them on the back cast, but he managed to clear all obstacles with a modicum of grace. 

“That was very good for a fist try,” Will murmured against the back of his neck.

“Well, I must have a good teacher then.” To be honest, Fredrick’s flirting was a little rusty. It had been a while, but it looked like he’d have plenty of chances to practice in the near future. “So, when do the fish come out?”

“Oh,” Will said innocently, “The fish aren't going to be out at this time of day.”

Frederick spun around. “What?”

“It’s too bright. They prefer to feed at dawn or dusk.” Will scratched the back of his neck, something Frederick was quickly learning was a nervous habit of his. “I’m sure there are some out there right now, but they’re probably off in the shade somewhere.”

“You brought me out here with no intention of fishing?”

“I brought you out here with the intention of spending time with you. And I did teach you how to fish.”

Frederick couldn't find it in himself to be angry. It was freeing, at the very least, to not be expected to prove himself by actually catching a fish. “Well, if your plan was to spend the rest of the day cuddling while we pretend there are fish to bite, we can do that, but there might be better uses of our time.”

Will gave him a crooked smile. “What did you want to do instead?”

There was something to this whole wilderness deal, Frederick decided as his heart tried its damnedest to put a dent in his ribs. Being outside the restraints of the society he felt capable of answering Will with a startling honesty he hadn't been sure he possessed. “I have never wanted anything so much as I want to push you down in the mud and kiss you silly.”

Will let out a joyful laugh. He waded backwards toward the bank, leaving Frederick standing flabbergasted at himself in the middle of the stream. “I just might let you.”


End file.
